, the elegant pianist who expanded the boundaries of jazz by adding an orchestral sensibility and a mellow aesthetic to the music, has died. He was 91.
Shearing died Monday of
, said his manager, Dale Sheets. Shearing had not performed publicly since taking a fall at his
apartment in 2004, but he continued playing piano.
FOR THE RECORD:
George Shearing: The obituary of jazz pianist George Shearing in the Feb. 15 LATExtra section implied that an encounter with Queen Elizabeth that Shearing had described to Times jazz writer Leonard Feather took place in 2006, when Shearing was knighted. Feather, who died in 1994, reported the anecdote in a 1988 Times story. —
Shearing once introduced "Lullaby of Birdland," written in 1952 in celebration of the fabled New York nightspot and its radio show, by saying: "I have been credited with writing 300 songs. Two-hundred-ninety-nine enjoyed a bumpy ride from relative obscurity to total oblivion. Here is the other one."
Shearing, who was born blind, first came to America from his native
in 1946. His first job was intermission pianist at a New York club during a
engagement. He took a similar post at another club during an
engagement and sometimes filled in her for pianist,
He continued as a struggling, scale-earning unknown until early 1949, when he hit on a formula that would establish his jazz identity.
Leonard Feather — the jazz critic, producer and composer who discovered Shearing in 1937 — suggested that the pianist add a guitarist and a vibraphonist to the standard rhythm section to make up a quintet. The personnel in that first group were diverse both in race and gender and included John Levy on bass, Denzil Best on drums, Marjorie Hyams on vibraphone and Chuck Wayne on guitar.
The group went into the recording studio and came out with "September in the Rain," which sold nearly a million records. Their first New York engagement came in April 1949 at the Café Society
. They then went on a national tour, and by the end of the year, Shearing's group was voted the No. 1 combo in a reader poll by jazz magazine Down Beat.
With this group, Shearing developed what came to be known as
which involved not only the makeup of the band — vibes and guitar generally were not both found in quintets — but also the style in which he played the piano. He used the
to create a big, lush, orchestral sound. In his book "The Jazz Years: Earwitness to an Era," Feather wrote that Shearing "developed a new and unprecedented blend for his instrumentation."
In that technique, a
writer noted some years ago, "both hands play melodies in parallel octaves with a shifting cloud of chords in between."
Shearing worked primarily with his quintet for much of the next three decades. The personnel shifted but over the years included some of the finest names in jazz, including Cal Tjader and Gary Burton on vibes and Joe Pass and Toots Thielemans on guitar, though Thielemans was better known as a harmonica player.
From the early 1950s on, Shearing had steady work in the recording studios, first with MGM, where he was under contract from 1950 to 1955, and then with
for 14 years. With Capitol, he recorded albums with some of the best singers of the day, including
, Nancy Wilson and
and achieved substantial chart success in the late 1950s and early '60s.
Though the commercially successful quintet was his bread and butter, Shearing in time began to feel limited by it and grew tired of life on the road. At one point, he told New Yorker jazz critic Whitney Balliett, his quintet did 56 concerts in 63 days.
"George drives himself harder than you notice," bassist Al McKibbon once told Feather. "One night in
, I saw him literally fall asleep in the middle of a chorus of 'Tenderly.' He woke up with a start and carried right on."
Shearing disbanded the group in 1978. For most of the rest of his career, he appeared mainly in solo, duo or trio settings.
with Concord Records and then Telarc in the 1980s seemed to revitalize him. He recorded five albums with singer
that were critically and commercially successful.
His autobiography, "Lullaby of Birdland," was published in 2004.
Born Aug. 13, 1919, in the Battersea district of London to working-class Cockney parents, Shearing was one of nine children. He started playing piano and accordion at age 5 but didn't receive formal musical education until he spent four of his teenage years at the Linden Lodge, a school for the blind.
It was there that he learned Bach, Liszt and music theory. It was also during that time that he became interested in jazz by listening to recordings by American pianists Meade Lux Lewis, Earl Hines,
and Fats Waller.
At Linden Lodge, Shearing showed enough potential to earn a number of scholarship offers from universities. But after graduating, he went to work in a local pub where he earned about $5 a week and tips for his playing.
Within a year, he had joined Claude Bampton's big band, a 15-piece unit made up of blind musicians who played compositions by Jimmie Lunceford and
Feather discovered Shearing playing as a swing accordionist in a London jam session. He quickly arranged for Shearing to record for
Decca and, although that recording date was not Shearing's first, it was the one that set his career in motion.
With Feather's help, Shearing got a regular radio program on the
. He had a Dixieland band and was also his country's leading boogie-woogie pianist. Soon he was being called Britain's answer to the great American pianist Teddy Wilson, and for seven consecutive years he was chosen his country's most popular jazz pianist by Melody Maker magazine.
While playing in an air-raid shelter, Shearing met his first wife, Beatrice Bayes, known to friends as Trixie. They married in 1941 and had one daughter, Wendy Ann, before divorcing in the early 1970s. He later married Eleanor Geffert, who survives him, as does his daughter.
Over the years, he played for three U.S. presidents —
— and for
. He was knighted by the queen in 2006. An anecdote he related to Feather about his brush with royalty said much about his sharp wit:
"When we were preparing to be received [by the queen], I was told that the directive is: Do not extend your hand until the queen extends hers. I said, well, either somebody's going to have to cue me or she'll have to wear a bell. But somebody did cue me," Shearing said.